The Inn at the Crossroads
by spottedhorse
Summary: Foyle is in America on "unfinished business." What he discovers at a country inn gives him hope. Sam doesn't really appear in this story but she's there anyway ;-)


Everyone was so supportive of my last effort with "Six" that I thought I might try again. This one is very different and shorter too. I hope you enjoy. I just love Christopher Foyle; he fascinates me.

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His thumb moved along the line of her jaw as his eyes took in the early morning sleepiness that accompanied her awakening. Her hair was disheveled, trailing away from her head in all directions haphazardly. She stifled a yawn as her eyes fluttered open, the blue green of them looking pale in the early morning light. It was then that a smile began to creep across her face. "Goommmmmorning," she mumbled as her eyes crinkled shut again, her head burrowing into her pillow in search of a moment of laziness. And then she moaned, or was it a hum? Perhaps more of a purr, he finally decided as he grinned foolishly at her. "Good morning," he replied before planting a teasing peck to the tip of her nose.

It had been years since he'd enjoyed this kind of pleasure, waking with a warm woman next to him. It had been one of the nicest things about being married, he reflected; those languid, cozy mornings with just the two of them in their little cocoon. It was one of the tangible things he had missed the most after his wife's death. And on this morning, he was reminded just why that was.

She nudged closer to him and he welcomed her gladly. "Mmmmmm," she purred again, "niccceee…"

"Yes, it is." His arm went instinctively around her, pulling her even tighter to him. He hadn't held a woman like this in years, too many years; and it felt … His thoughts paused. How did it feel? Christopher Foyle wasn't a man to over use words or to use extravagant ones. So the only word that came to mind at the moment was splendid; it felt splendid. But it also didn't feel quite right. The feeling was delicious but there was something missing… someone….

He had travelled to America on unfinished business. Howard Paige had escaped justice long enough, he'd decided a few months ago when he left the Hastings police. Of course, there were other events that led to his decision; well, one in particular. But he chased that thought from his mind before it could reestablish itself. He'd spent the majority of his voyage over expelling those thoughts and feelings and they needed to stay away. But on this morning, he couldn't ignore them, couldn't ignore thoughts of _her_.

Bringing Paige's behavior to light in a strange country had proven to be more challenging than he'd anticipated and the clogs turned just as slowly here as they did at home. Consequently, Christopher had taken to using the waiting times to explore a little more of this country that was born from revolution. It was on one of his little exploratory expeditions that he had discovered this little inn along the road near a crossroad in the Virginia countryside. By American standards, it was very old, pre-dating the Revolutionary War. Still it was nice and clean and served as a base for several of his excursions. And beyond that, the innkeeper was very attractive and nice too. And after stopping at her inn the third time in two month things had warmed considerably between them, culminating in last night.

It wasn't that he was in love with her. Christopher wasn't a man to love two women at the same time and his heart was still attached to a lovely woman back in England. But he was wrong for her and she was making her own life, a new life with a new husband. And he was here, alone with his innkeeper who was a bit of a lonely heart herself. And it felt splendid, this little cocoon of warmth and satiated stupor. No, it wasn't love but with her he had found something of himself that he thought had been lost when his wife had been lowered into the ground almost fifteen years ago.

She began to stir a little, her fingers playing in the wiry thin tufts of hair on his chest. And then with one finger, she made a trail down his chest to his navel, before her hand stopped in that little bit of extra space before things would really start to get interesting. A contented sigh emanated from her as her face turned to his chest. Her lips nipped and nibbled down the center and then across to his nipple. He'd never before considered that part of him to be capable of the kind of arousal she was able to provoke in him. But just as she had done last night, she was lighting a fire in him that travelled down his torso to burn in his groin.

Sally McCowen was ten years younger than Christopher. Like him, she had suffered the loss of her spouse, although Mr. McCowen had been blown to bits on a French battlefield in '44. Their one child, a daughter, was attending a college in another part of the state. Sally continued to operate the inn just as she and her husband had done before the war. But despite the people who came and went, she was lonely. She hadn't seen her husband for two years before the unwelcome telegram had arrived. While Christopher's grief had years to settle into an underlying melancholy that only occasionally felt raw these days, Sally's grief was still somewhat fresh. He had recognized it in her upon their first meeting.

On this morning, their first morning of waking together, Christopher realized much of his sadness had lifted since spending time with Sally. He hoped he was having a similar effect on her. And as she continued to entice him into the fires, sorrow was the furthest thing from his mind.

Their coming together the night before had been somewhat hurried, feverish even. But they took their time this morning, savoring each nuance and each other. And when the finale came about, Christopher was left to marvel at his own ability to satisfy a woman even as out of practice as he was.

She smiled contentedly at him once her body calmed. An answering smile was about all he could manage in his satiated state. They lay their languidly for a few minutes, the room silent save for the ticking of the clock on the bedside table. Finally, he felt her hand wiggle into his and she sighed.

"Christopher, I need you to understand what I am about to say. The last thing I want is for either of to be hurt."

He made to answer, rolling to his side to proclaim his agreement and to assure her that he had no intention of hurting her. Her eyes crinkling in a smile that did not reach her lips, she lifted her other hand to cover his mouth. "Please listen," she said quietly.

A worried frown worked at his brow as his mouth twisted into a grimace. He nodded his agreement.

"I know you still have things to do in Washington. I want to go back there today and complete your mission. And when it is done, I want you to go home, to England."

He opened his mouth to object but she shook her head negatively. "Please, let me explain…" She took a deep breath and then continued. "Last night… and this morning … they were beautiful. You are a beautiful man Christopher Foyle; not just in appearance but in spirit… in your heart. And you shared some of that with me and I will always be grateful for this time with you. But you don't love me and you never will. That's alright, I don't love you either. Yet. But if we were to continue, I'm afraid I would fall hopelessly in love with you and then I _would_ be terribly hurt, because you don't belong here anymore than I belong in England. Your life is there and mine is here and that's just the way of it. Besides, somewhere over there is a lovely woman who does have your heart, and so I would never have it. That would break mine. So I want you to leave today, go back to Washington to finish your business, and then go home to that lovely woman and make a life with her. Go back to where you belong Christopher, to the woman you truly want to be with. Be happy. And know that while you were here with me, you showed me that I can still have a life too and someday soon, I will be happy again."

Christopher felt his heart plummet in his chest. Sam. Without him having told her anything about his former driver, Sally had known about Sam. Was he really that transparent? But it didn't matter; his feelings about Sam didn't matter. She belonged to another man, one more suited for her and he had to step away, for his own sake if not for Sam's. Just as Sally was now asking him to step away from her.

"I'm sorry," he finally said softly. I…you are lovely Sally, and I believe I could come to love you eventually. But you are right, there is someone in England. Tttrouble is… sshe's most probably married by now. She was stepping out with a young man and just before I left Hastings, she accepted his proposal. But my son is there and I would miss seeing him." He watched her face as she accepted his agreement. "I am sorry that I can't… tthat it has to end this way."

A sad smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. "So am I. But I am not sorry that this happened and I don't want you to regret it either. We needed this, Christopher. We both needed it. Life is too short to live it grieving. And now we can move on to other possibilities. I have you to thank for that. I will always look back at this interlude with you with happy warmth."

"As will I," he replied.

Things began to feel awkward after a few more minutes. Finally Sally slipped from the bed, Christopher watched her bare form moving across the room to retrieve her robe. He grimaced as he asked himself why he didn't love her, why he couldn't love her. She was very attractive and a very caring woman. And she seemed to understand him somewhat, more than most. With a sigh, he accepted that it would never be though, not with Sam still in his heart and mind.

Quietly Sally sipped from the room and Christopher climbed out of bed. He needed to get ready, pack, and travel back to Washington. Once his business was concluded there he could go home. And it was time he did. It was time to face his feelings about Sam. And if she truly was married now he'd have to find a way to move on. Whatever the circumstances, Sally had shown him that it was time to stop hiding from his feelings; it was time to allow happiness back into his life.

His mind wandered back a few years as he packed. He remembered Sam struggling with being at a crossroads. While she was in hospital with Anthrax, he'd learned that her young American suitor had proposed and her crossroads involved him. He smiled ironically as he compared that time in her life with this time in his. How strange that they both had to a crossroads in life that had involved Americans. Sam had chosen to go through the crossroads and leave her American behind. Christopher would be leaving his American behind as well, but she had forced him to see another course and set him on it. Yes, ironic; one American had nearly taken Sam from him and now another was steering him straight back to her.

And so it was with a new feeling of determination and yes, hopefulness, that Christopher Foyle left the inn near the crossroad that day thinking that the bright, sunny day bode well for his future.


End file.
